


He Was Born To Blow Your Mind

by fromunderthegaytree



Category: Bully (Video Games)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Blackmail, Childhood Memories, Fist Fights, Frustration, Light Angst, M/M, Pete Doesn’t Know How To Feel, Sad Ending, Turmoil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 22:25:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12375384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fromunderthegaytree/pseuds/fromunderthegaytree
Summary: Pete doesn’t know if Gary’s his best friend or his enemy.





	He Was Born To Blow Your Mind

1986, Spring

 

"Alright, everyone, take out your pencils, you'll be writing a character analysis on Holden Caulfield, I hope you've read the complete book." Lionel Galloway glanced over the class, he roamed from aisle to aisle like cold wind as he passed out sheets of paper. Pete Kowalski squirmed in his seat and blamed Gary Smith for the D+ that he'd probably receive.

Yesterday night, he was completely content with reading The Catcher In The Rye, Gary had other plans. What would he say to his irritated and sober English teacher? He couldn't confess that, he, Pete Kowalski, A- student had been egging greasers with his only friend instead of reading.

Almost immediately, hands flew over sheets. The sound of buzzing graphite made Pete's heart sink. His hand shot up, trembling as his breath hitched in his throat. His teacher stared at his hand, probably relating to the trembling due to withdrawal. "Yes, Kowalski?" He sighed out impatiently, "what is it?"

He could feel eyes glue onto him and he lowered his hand reluctantly. "I feel sick, like really sick, I think I might puke.." He mumbled, glowering up at his teacher. He heard snickers from students and he knew what everyone was really thinking about. Even his English teacher had a hint of a smile. Why were teenagers so cruel?

In November, the biology teacher, Mr. Slawter had announced they'd go to the zoo. Everyone was revved up at first but it really proved itself to be excruciatingly boring. But some chimps had decided to procreate right in his line of vision. Pete Kowalski threw up the granola bars he had eaten that day.

That was how the running gag of making hurling noises near him was born. It was completely embarrassing and the worst part was Gary loved to remind him about it. Behind him, Ted Thompson poked the back of his neck with a sharpened pencil before whispering, "ape boy."

He would've turned around and called him a dumb meathead if it weren't for his English teacher standing there like a still sculpture. "Are you really sick?" He asked, knitting his brows together and scrutinizing Pete. It was the withdrawal speaking, his teacher was pissed without a bottle in his hand.

"Yes, sir." He replied.

Ted coughed loudly and between coughs said, "kiss ass.." Pete finally turned around to glare at him before looking back at his teacher. Lionel pointed at Ted and mouthed 'detention'.

His blank bloodshot eyes finally focused onto the antsy student in his presence. "Fine, you're dismissed." He waved him off and Pete grabbed his backpack before scurrying off. He didn't look back at the class, he knew they were staring at him and it filled him with a familiar sort of panic.

He heard Ted call from his seat, "bye, Ape boy!" Laughter erupted from the class and he jogged out the class. The hallway was empty and silent, he let out a strangled sigh before dropping his bag. He looked at it, anger building up in him like a balloon.

He kicked the bag and it scuttled across the linoleum floor. He breathed in sharp breaths and shamefully went to retrieve his backpack.

He sat at his desk, staring out the window where a greaser was throwing eggs at the dorm. Lefty Mancini chucked them tirelessly at his window, he groaned to himself. His day was only getting worse and worse. He looked through slimy egg whites and yolk at the Italian. Hesitantly, he opened the window and prayed to every god known in existence that he wouldn't get eggshells stuck in his hair.

"What are you doing?" He asked, glaring at the greaser who stopped throwing. His face revealed absolute shock that he had been caught but it relaxed, seeing that it was only Gary's wimpy friend.

"Hey, ape boy." He waved with his egg filled hand, "where's your deranged boyfriend?" Like a moth drawn to a flame, he neared the window. Pete felt like a fish being circled by a shark.

"Don't call me that, loser." He rolled his eyes at the ceiling before sighing, "what do you want? I've got a book to read." He realized how ineffective and lame his statement sounded. He cursed himself in his mind.

"You're gonna pay for what you did yesterday, especially for Vance, you ruined his hair." He pointed at Pete. He hadn't noticed Gary walking behind him, tapping the greaser's shoulder. He spun around and his complexion transformed into a pale white like he had seen a ghost.

"Tell queerbait that his hair's shitty anyway." He loomed over Lefty, who looked up at him with eyes as wide a saucers. "Get lost, scram." He slapped Lefty's wrist and eggs fell and cracked against the concrete. Pete stared at the yellow leaking from the mess.

Lefty glanced at his eggs, his bottom lip trembled and Pete wanted to see him cry for all the mean things he had done to him years ago. He glared at Gary before running away.

There was a moment of pregnant silence before Gary looked up at Pete. "Hey, girly!" He shouted out sarcastically before walking to the window. Pete looked down, his own roommate was fond of testing out harmful nicknames on him like weapons.

"Let me in." He ordered before he climbed in through the window. He fell onto the wooden floor with a grunt of pain. Pete watched and thought about reaching out and helping him out. He immediately moved back to his desk, flipping through the pages to land on where he was reading before the egg mishap.

"How was your day?" Pete asked, glancing over at Gary who was wiping dirt off his uniform.

"Horrible, femmeboy." He heaved a sigh and threw himself onto Pete's bed. He was ruining the smoothness of his bed sheet without a care.

Pete pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed out, he closed his book. He swiveled in his uncomfortable chair and faced Gary who was picking out leaves from his brown hair. "Can't you lay on your own bed?" He asked, standing up, "and 'femmeboy'? like you haven't used that one a million times.."

Gary grinned with a mischievous spark in his eyes, "let's sneak out tonight." Pete sat on his bed, Gary popped his feet up onto Pete's lap.

"Are you kidding?" He scoffed, glaring at him, "I had to excuse myself from English because you made me go egg those greasers last night." He reminded with such an fiery tone that he hoped it would defrost Gary's frozen heart. If he had a heart.

"Aw, come on, don't be a baby." Gary frowned, leaning over to poke at his side.

Pete swatted his hand away, "no, why would I go?" He crossed his arms and closed his eyes.

"It's a party." Gary sang, with malice clinging to his voice, "there'll be girls, in your case boys," Pete's eyes shot open, glaring at Pete, "music, booze.. you know." The offer did sound fun, but he knew Gary was always hiding his ill intentions.

"No! It's a school night.." He pursed his lips, "and you always screw me over, dick." Gary rolled his eyes and laughed revealing his sharp eyeteeth.

"Honey, honey, I promise I'll do the dishes next week, it's your PMS talking, huh?" He poked Pete's cheek again and Pete practically launched himself off the bed.

"Fine, I'll go, just shut up." He sighed, glaring at him, hoping he'd show that he wasn't scared of Gary. But to no avail, Gary scared him and it scared him how much he liked Gary.

"Yes! Okay, you have to change." He jumped up and grabbed his shoulders before pinching his pink sleeve.

"What..? Why?" Pete eyed his shirt before glancing up at Gary. He gave him a look, the 'you-know-why' look. The look that Pete hated so much, he wanted to punch it off his face.

"Do you want to look like Boy George, hold on, let me get some make up.." He began before Pete sighed loudly in exasperation.

"I get it, let me change." He muttered, giving in to Gary's demands anyway. He tugged off his vest and shirt, leaving the wife beater on. He turned around to Gary who was reading the Tigerbeat that Pete hid under his bed. "Is this better?"

He looked up before snickering, "you look like you're going to beat your wife and ask for a sandwich.. it's fine, let's go." He got up and left the dorm with him. As they walked to New Coventry, Pete counted the cars that passed them.

"Why didn't you change? you only told me to change.." Pete mumbled from out of nowhere, avoiding Gary by keeping a few steps back. He spun on his heels and turned to glare at him, his lips curved into a sneer.

"Petey, I only wanted to help you.." He began, cooing as his hand reached over to squeeze his slender shoulder. "What kind of friend would I be? I want you to get girls, you just needed a little wardrobe change, is that a crime? Wanting to help out my best friend?" He explained, pacing slightly.

Pete often told himself to stop listening to his manipulative words but the thought of Gary actually trying to help him made him smile to himself. "Really?" He asked quietly, looking up at him. The back of his mind told him to leave, go back to the dorms but with Gary's honeyed words, he was swept away from his initial fear.

"You bet, let's go." He flicked his temple before he began continuing to walk across the bridge that led into Bullworth Town. Pete's heart heat up at the thought of Gary considering him his best friend-even if he didn't mean it.

When they got into New Conventry, Lola's house was loud-practically shaking with clamor and Duran Duran music. Bile rose in his throat and he felt the familiar lightheaded feeling of adrenaline. He stared forward before willing himself to breathe in shallow breaths.

"Don't do this now, c'mon, it'll be fun." Gary grabbed his aching arms and tugged him closer to the house. Mandy was sitting near the porch, smoking some girly cigarette. She glanced over at the tall sociopath and his closeted sidekick. As they went to walk into the home, she let herself groan in distaste.

Her make up covered eyes roamed over them, "sickos.." She mumbled, she stood up before pulling Ted's letterman jacket tighter over her. "I see you ogling me, Gary Smith." She hissed, raising a perfectly pedicured middle finger to them.

"You wish, princess, I'm pretty sure it was little Petey looking up your skirt." He elbowed Pete's side which evoked a groan of pain from Pete. Gary wanted to see what she would say, he wanted to see if Pete would squirm like rat or deny it. He grinned wide as Pete snapped his head to him with his jaw dropped-revealing his shiny braces.

"I don't think so.." She wore a taut smile, she looked the short boy up and down. "I think he's trying to think of ways to steal Ted from me." She broke into the giggles, dropping her cigarette onto the concrete. Gary looked at Pete's light brown face change into the colour of a strawberry as he stared wide-eyed at them. He looked at Mandy and laughed along, enhancing the effect of the joke.

Pete's head dropped as he stared at the smoldering cigarette butt near Mandy's feet. "Fuck you!" He spat, glowering at them both as they continued to laugh at Pete's expense. When he was a ghost, he was going to haunt Gary Smith endlessly. He pushed past Gary and walked into the cacophony of the party.

He looked around, deceived to see that none of his friends were there. He let his feet take hesitant steps as he looked around the dimly lit crowd. His body felt hot as people crowded around him, dancing and screaming. He looked around for Gary, wishing he was there with him.

He looked at the couch which had looked worn and moth eaten, he collapsed on it and closed his eyes as he tried to drown out the loud noises. He inhaled the smell of vomit, beer and marijuana-slightly unfamiliar with it. He wouldn't doubt that Gary knew it more than him.

He felt a warm hand, his eyes opened and he looked up to see Johnny Vincent. His heart sank as he wanted to melt through the couch like he was a memory of Pete Kowalski. He almost felt phantom pains of where Johnny would punch his nose.

He only blinked and stared up at him. He was actually sort of handsome, like Gary. He shook the thought away and sat up slightly. "Yeah?" He croaked, staring at Johnny's black eye.

"Your friend's looking for you." He gestured behind him with his thumb. Pete sat up even more and craned his neck to look over his shoulder. Gary stood there with Christy Martin hanging onto him. She leaned closer into him and he lowered his mouth to her ear where he whispered something which was covered by loud cacophony.

She let her head fall back like it weighed a ton before she giggled. Gary smiled smugly and glanced over at Pete, his eyes narrowed as he waved him over impatiently.

Envy burnt in Pete's stomach like a parasite. He stared dumbfounded at the couple before looking back to Johnny. He glared at him, frustrated with him. He probably thought he was slow, he hated when people thought he was slow because he was quiet.

"I'm sorry about yesterday, Johnny Vincent, I was pushed into it, it was all Gary's idea." He rambled, blaming Gary Smith wasn't his intention but looking at him making out with Christy fueled his revenge craving mind.

His jaw dropped slightly, "you're shitting me, jeez, kid.. Thanks for the heads up, you're not bad." He turned his head to look at Gary, his strong jaw clenched before he stalked off to go visit Lola.

A sense of relief flooded him before it seemed to curdle into regret. Maybe he shouldn't have said anything at all. He got up and walked over to the couple as they begun dancing to some New Wave music which blasted throughout the house.

"Gary." Pete said, gaining their attention as the turned to look at him. "Why did you call me over?" He asked, crossing his arms as he tried to seem cool and indifferent about everything but he was burning with jealousy.

He grinned wide, showing his pearly whites. "You looked narcoleptic over there, so how did speaking to Johnny Vincent feel like, did your homo-hormones take over?" He inquired. The redhead hanging off his arm laughed before giggling a 'you're so mean!' to Gary.

Pete clenched his fist before taking a few deep breaths, the bubbling rage in him calmed down. He shook his head, "I apologized for egging them, I said that you're really sorry because it was your idea after all." His tongue felt thick with anxiety but it laid the desired effect onto the taller boy.

His eyes widened as his jaw dropped. He felt victorious. He expected Gary to punch him or bark at him but what he did instead gave Pete chills. He smiled, calm and patient-like a teacher speaking to bratty little kids. "Oh, that's okay, Petey." He heaved a content sigh and held his chest before looking over at Christy, "oh bless his heart."

Pete took a step back, uncomfortable with Gary's words and actions. "Hey, Pete, you know what? I think you need a girlfriend, follow me." He grabbed Pete's forearm and began to drag him through the crowd. Christy followed with interest, eyes wide and ears open for a new scoop to gossip about. Pete tried pulling away but Gary hadn't been cutting gym class with his crushing iron grip.

He let go off his arm and pushed him into a tall girl. She turned around to look at who bumped her. Pinky Gauthier, only came to the party to be slumming as she mingled with those poorer than her.

She raised a brow expectantly before Pete immediately apologized, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" Gary grabbed his shoulder and waved at Pinky.

"Oh, it's you." She pointed at Gary before rolling her eyes. "What do you want?" She asked dismissively.

"It's not what I want, it's what he wants." He ruffled Pete's short hair, Pete looked up at him in terror as he begun to realize what he would do.

"Gary, no, stop, please." He whispered, pleading with him as the sociopath ignored his begging.

"Pete said: the only reason he came to this party was to find you." He explained, rolling his hand around cheerfully. She shrugged, unaffected by Gary's words, she looked down at Pete before she went to turn back to mingling with some townies.

"Pete." Gary said, squeezing his shoulder sadistically with a smile, "why didn't you bring the page from that playboy under your bed, the one where you glued Pinky's school picture on that model, I know you jack off to it." He grinned wide as he began to destroy Pete's already non existent social status.

Christy laughed out loud, "oh my god, Lance, did you hear that?" She was already beginning to spread the rumor around, it dispersed throughout the whole party.

Pinky gasped, tears welled up in her eyes in disgust. "You sick pervert!" She raised her thin hand and slapped him. It ached and stung, Pete held his cheek and he hadn't even noticed he was starting to cry.

He turned to Gary, smiling at Pete's misery. The angry lava inside Pete threatened to blow, there was no saving it this time, either.. Pete punched Gary as hard as he could, even with his noodle like arms.

Gary fell back into the crowd, stunned by the punch. Pete looked around, people were staring before Ted cheered him on, "go, Ape boy!" He jumped over Gary's body and ran out the house, past the massive crowd of students. His feet flew as he ran up New Coventry, panicked.

He imagined Gary chasing him, running after him in a fury. His eyes would be flaming and he'd be foaming at the mouth. But he wasn't and it wasn't until he ran to the bridge leading back to school, that he collapsed.

He fell onto his knees, catching his breath as he drew in air into his lungs. His throat was on fire and he regretted running so fast, he wasn't an athlete.

With his wobbly legs, he pushed himself up before glancing back. No one was chasing him and for a small moment, he felt a twinge of disappointment and fear.

If Gary wasn't chasing him, he sure as hell wasn't his friend anymore. Gary Smith was his only friend and his idol. As fucked up he could be, Pete wished he was Gary Smith or that Gary Smith quit pestering him.

He shook his head at his ridiculous thoughts, weighing him down like a wet towel. He began shambling his way back to Bullworth, he wanted to cry-desperately. No tears came probably because he didn't feel so bottled up.

All the angry and self deprecating thoughts he had were all concentrated on punching Gary's face. When he arrived, there were few students walking around and it had to be after curfew because the prefects were chasing them around campus.

The upside was that Pete could return to his dorm to wallow in self hate without getting caught by Seth, the meanest of the prefects.

He had once watched something on the television, it was a documentary about mice. His mother hated them and he wanted to learn about them, just to spite her in a bizarre way.

He felt like one of mice in the show, returning to his nest before he'd hide away from the unforgiving world. Maybe he was like a mouse in a maze and Gary Smith was the scientist that would punish him for the most harmless actions before he'd reward it with compliments.

Being gay was worse enough, liking Gary Smith, his tormentor seemed to be the icing on the putrid cake. Once he had returned to his dorm room, he blinked in the darkness before roaming around blindly before turning on his lamp.

He stared at himself in the mirror and frowned. No wonder Pinky slapped him, he probably looked like a creep. He removed his clothes and chuckled them aside. He was too upset to put them into the laundry basket.

He got into his pyjamas before he grabbed the book on his desk and curled up in bed. Somehow, it comforted him. He was lost in his own little word where not even Gary Smith could get to him.

He was busy kissing Christy Martin's loose lips. His hand clenched on the books spine a little tighter at the thought. He read the part where the main character was complaining about one of his roommates, Pete could relate.

He related to it slightly. Gary always liked to get his headspace, like some sort of parasite. After awhile of reading, he had finally even forgotten that everyone at Bullworth knew him as a creepy pervert that had once blew chunks at the zoo.

Until he heard someone walk into the dormitories. It could've been anyone, ranging from Pedro Lehoya or Norton Williams. He couldn't have known it was Gary. He looked at the book before deciding to play it safe.

He left the book beside him before he ran across the room to turn off the green lampshaded lamp before jumping back into his bed. He closed his eyes and waited for the door to open.

His heart leaped in his throat once he heard the door creak like something from a cheesy slasher film. He squeezed his eyes shut as he waited for the worst. He could imagine how sore his nose would feel and how metallic the blood would taste-gushing down his face.

As Gary's footsteps fell heavier, signalling he was close, it was hard not to squirm away. His face felt hot as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stabilize his fleeting breath.

Gary's hand reached over and his heart skipped a beat. But he didn't do what he expected him to. Instead of socking him in the jaw and giving him some of his well earned medicine, he picked up his book.

He opened his right eye, peering through the slit at Gary. He was looking at the cover, his eyelids hung heavy and he could tell he was either riding the buzz that alcohol gave or he was genuinely fatigued from the evening. The way he looked. He wasn't sneering at Pete, grinning maliciously.

He walked over to the writing desk and laid the book down. Pete closed his eyes and listened to the sound of rustling as Gary stripped down to his boxers before he crawled into his own bed. The peace was confusing, was he planning on something diabolical?

Gary Smith was a thunderstorm, a dark big cloud that would rain on anything that got in its path, Pete Smith was wondering if he was in the eye of Gary's storm. All the silence, as if he hadn't punched him at the party. Maybe he realized his actions were cruel and decided to treat Pete like his friend, finally.

As the paranoid thoughts harvested in his minds, he grew sleepy before he fell asleep.

The next morning, Pete had woken up and he forgot about the events that had rolled the previous night until his sights fell on Gary. He was already dressed and he was reading a notebook. Pete sat up slightly to gain a better view.

He watched him and admired how statuesque he looked, pure concentration etched onto his face. Pete scrutinized before he realized it was same moleskine journal he kept hidden underneath his bed beside his stuffed rabbit, Tigerbeats and other things that Gary could perceive as 'gay'.

He launched himself out of his bed as his heart skipped a beat. He attempted to snatch at the book before Gary lifted it up above his head. His smile widened before he chortled, "good morning, femmeboy."

Pete jumped, bending his knees to gain enough momentum to grab the journal from him. He glanced at it before staring at Pete, "is this your diary? Man, you really are girl."

"Gary, please, I'm sorry about yesterday, don't read it." He remembered how when he had first gotten it, he contemplated on writing about how much he thought about Gary. He decided against it because he thought that writing about him would only enhance his crush for him even more.

Instead of writing about Gary, he wrote about who he hated and about how used to have a crush on Johnny Vincent and Chad Morris, they were infatuations, tame compared to what he felt for Gary.

He didn't want to finally have to reveal that all of Gary's theories were right, that he was gay. That would make him a joke, not just 'femmeboy' but 'queer boy'. Gary ignored his pleading before he grabbed his messenger bag.

"Well, I've got a Chemistry class to sit through and a diary to read, see you." He ruffled his short brown hair before he hopped off the desk and dashed out of the dorm before Pete could attempt to catch him. He meekly fell to his knees and groaned in exasperation.

The day was unbearable, he had gym in the morning. After class, he kept poking and prodding at the fresh bruise on his shin, he skipped lunch and went to scope out for the nerd's advice. They were in the library, playing Canasta even though Algernon kept forgetting the rules.

It was vexing but he was too hung on the possibilities of him reading his journal. He could get his redhead to spread rumors about him being gay but there were true. Gym class would be unbearable to persist through it that were the case. The best case scenario, and quite frankly, the most unrealistic would be Pete's happily ever after.

Gary could realize he swung that way and finally make a move on him. The nerds knew about Pete, mostly because they were too busy being picked on mercilessly to bully him for it. "Guys, Gary's got my journal." He explained, watching them play.

Cornelius winced, "that would be a nightmare for me, what if he tells people?" He asked as Pete scoffed, letting his eyes cast down sluggishly. He could feel an oncoming tension headache beginning to blossom like a rose at the base of his skull.

He needed some cigarettes to ease the tension. Gary was the only guy he knew with a fake ID, so asking him for a favor while he was in the position to ruin Pete's life was out of question. "Gary's not going to tell anyone." He reassured with sternness in his voice, he glanced at his friends.

They were giving each other the familiar looks that people did when they didn't want to let you in on what they were thinking. "Guys! Gary's my friend, we've been friends for awhile, he wouldn't dare." He added, wishing he believed what he was saying.

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that." Donald muttered, pausing from playing the game to give Pete a frown. Pete dug his nails into the table, thinking about the possibility of Gary telling everyone. He opened his mouth to argue before looking down at his clenched fists resting on his lap.

The library fell silent as Algernon cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention. "So, you went to the party?" He asked softly, which the other nerds smiled at.

"Yeah, 'cause Gary made me." Pete replied, shaking his head slightly as he showed how his question had vexed him. It was typical for his friends to look over his problem or sweep it under the rug. He wasn't sure they were his friends, they treated him like dirt.

Not as bad as Gary, though. Once again, they looked at each other devilishly before looking back at Pete. "Did any girls talk about us?" Cornelius inquired, his eyes were wide with amusement.

"I wonder if Lola likes me.." Algie mused, Donald shot him a 'you-wish' with a snort. Pete shook his head and looked at them forlornly.

He clenched his jaw, stopping quickly as he remembered what his mother had said about him clenching his jaws. If he continued to clench his jaw, he'd have ugly teeth. If he wasn't uneasy enough, the thought of his parents discovering his true sexuality felt dreadful.

"No, Lola didn't talk about you," he replied to Algie and offered a twitchy smile, the hopeful grin on Algie's face fell away quickly. "I didn't really talk to anyone at the party, I was napping." He informed, Algie squeaked with laughter.

The other nerds glanced at him, their lips quivering into meek smiles before they broke into laughter. Algie removed his glasses, which had hockey tape wrapped around the bridge where bullies had repeatedly broke. He chortled, "you were invited to a party and you slept? You're a loser." They laughed like hyenas and Pete could feel heat rush to his cheeks.

He took a deep breath and barked, "shut up, you're just jealous that I went to one, dork." They ignored his comment and continued to laugh, "we heard that Pinky slapped you, a girl hit you.." Algie continued just as Pete got out of his chair.

He was either going to reach over and wring his neck or storm out of the library. He chose with the pacifist's option and instead glared at them. "Shut up, you wouldn't even have went up to her, if she looked at you, you'd piss yourself." Pete said, rage rising in his chest.

They ignored Pete and continued to laugh at his misery. He let out a shaky groan before he raced out the library. He felt so angry that he could bet there were plumes of smokes emitting from his ears.

As he jogged down the steps, away from the library, he felt slightly better. He began to recall a lesson his dad had taught him when a bully had destroyed his Scooby-Doo lunch box. He had been bawling like a baby as he ran into his house, blubbering that his lunch box was ruined and the oreos that his mother had packed were crushed alongside his beloved lunch kit.

After he had stopped blubbering, his dad had taught him a lesson he would never forget. He had told him that there were sadists, people who loved inflicting pain on others. Gary fit easily into that category, to a tee. He loved pranking people, watching them writhe and squirm with discomfort as he stepped far past their comfort zone. He especially loved to give Pete charlie horses just for the hell of it.

Then there was schadenfreude. People who liked to by stand and watch people suffer, which is where all his 'friends' conformed to. They didn't mind watching Pete's misadventures- it was like daytime television. He preferred Gary to them, when he didn't treat him badly.

He walked closer to the school as students walked around, enjoying their lunch break. He began to feel hot flashes as he glanced at Gordon and Ivan. They looked up at him, scrutinizing him and for a second-Pete thought Gary had already told everyone. He stared until he felt someone grab his shoulder, tight and firm.

He jumped, letting out a cry before he turned around to look and find Gary. He held his journal close to his chest, hiding a wicked smile behind a polite mask. "Petey, I thought you were playing 'Graves and Goblins'." He glanced over at the ancient library, Pete followed his gaze and realized dark clouds were beginning to roll in. It couldn't have been a coincidence.

He returned his gaze back onto the book he was holding. "It's 'Grottos and Gremlins', and we were playing Canasta." He clarified, "what do you want?" He crossed his arms and peered at him through his best attempt at a Eastwood squint.

His eyebrows knit together, he pressed one hand to his chest in mock hurt. "Pete, do you really think I just want something from you..? That I use you?" He jutted his bottom lip out and wiped away an invisible tear, "cutting, really."

He was starting to get on his nerves as he clenched his jaw. "I know you want something from me, you use me all the time." he shrugged, looking down at his converse, realizing the laces were starting to wear. He glowered up, "I don't know how you're going to take over the school if you're so incompetent that you can't do your own dirty work." He spat, his eyes darting between his book and Gary's changing face.

Like a cloud over the sun, his polite smile dropped and he frowned. He took a few steps forward and quickly punched the side of his face. He obviously hadn't been skipping gym class because he knew exactly which knuckles to use. Pete's head whiplashed from the impact of the punch. The unpredictability of the punch had Pete sprawled on the ground, he looked up as he already felt a headache blossoming.

"What was that for?" He croaked, gingerly touching at where he had punched him. It felt hot and bruised. He began getting up but Gary reached over, pulling forcibly on his forearm to get him on his two legs.

He grabbed both of Pete's shoulders, "we need to talk."

"What's there to talk about? You just knocked me down.." Pete muttered, pushing both of his hands of him.

"Your journal."

Fear was knocked back into his heart as his breath hitched. He shook his head, "no, no, you're wrong. We're not going to talk about it." He took a step back, ready to run back to his dormitory. Gary heaved a sigh, waving him near him.

"Come on, don't be a baby, have a cigarette." He fumbled with the pack in his pocket and held out the stick to him. Pete remembered the uncomfortable tension in his shoulders, he looked down for a brief second before giving in and returning.

He pushed the cigarette into his mouth, lighting the end with his cheap lighter. The cigarette welcomed him with his first drag, he glanced up at Gary. "Okay, what do you want to talk about?" He asked, desperately trying to hide the shakiness in his voice behind a nonchalant facade. He swallowed the knot that formed in his throat.

"So, you play for the other team?" He asked cheerfully, punching Pete's shoulder before he received a death glare from the shorter boy. "What? You do." He threw his hands up and Pete began feeling his cigarette burn his thumb and forefinger. He dropped the butt and stomped on it, wishing it was Gary's hand instead of the smoldering cigarette.

 

"Whatever, just.. don't tell anyone." He stepped up closer to him and glowered up at him. His lip curled down to show his disdain with Gary's familiar antics. But deep underneath, he was struck with anxiety and he could feel nausea rise up into his throat.

"I won't." He said, Pete then decided that was enough, he had to step away from their conversation. He went to step aside but he felt Gary's arm block him from moving any further. "I won't tell, on a few conditions.." He smiled cheekily before Pete bit down on his nicotine covered tongue.

"You dick, you've stooped so low that you would blackmail me?" He stepped away, curling his hands into fists, digging the nails into his palm before he would cry from frustration. He held in his breath before Gary gasped theatrically at Pete's words.

"But.. Pete, I am your friend, I'm not blackmailing anyone." He explained, so entirely convinced himself that he wasn't harming anyone. He dug his sneakers into the concrete as he leaned back, shaking his head. "I thought we were friends.." He mumbled, turning away.

He was content with Gary leaving but remembered he still had that information. His heart skipped a beat and his foot fell forward. "Gary! I'm sorry, fine, what do you want?" He apologized just as the taller boy turned his head around, a vicious grin spreading quickly ear to ear.

"Alright, say.. that I didn't finish that book report on 'The Catcher In The Rye', would you do it for me?" He pleaded, stepping forward and holding onto Pete's shoulders. His eyes glanced at the talons clawed onto his shoulders. He coolly brushed his right hand off, clenching his jaw as he looked up at Gary.

That's what he wanted. To use him. The thought enraged him as his bitterness showed, he cast his gaze elsewhere. "Please..?" He heard him ask more quietly, softer. He looked up once more, trying to peer through his facade, to find if he really cared.

He was pressed, he felt his lip quiver before he reluctantly nodded. "Okay, fine, fine.." He crossed his arms, "I'll do your stupid homework, you don't tell anybody about this?" He confirmed, glaring at Gary. His glaring was only met with a sluggish grin.

"You're the best, Petey." He took off, running away from him as the bell rang shrilly. It pierced through the air and a feeling of terror fell in Pete. His legs felt numb as he stared at the cigarette butt on the concrete. Would he keep his promise?

He looked down at his hands, bringing them into futile fists as he went to his next class.

His evening was met with a disappointing amount of work to do. He took a break, lying on his bed as he counted the stickers on the ceiling. The ceiling was littered with glow-in-the-dark stickers, which he'd stare at before he'd fall asleep. He doubt that he'd successfully get any sleep that night.

He also wanted to hang up a small model of the solar system. He didn't. He remembered striking drowsy conversations with his roommate. He thought about the large vast universe, its entirety and he didn't know how to cope. He was small, a speck compared to the possible multi-verses.

He massaged his hand which was recovering from writing so much. He knew why he couldn't completely despise him. Maybe it was because he wasn't a very vindictive person? He liked that thought, that he was a forgiving guy.

But once, he was curled up in his bed, struggling to get enough breath as he hyperventilated. His shallow breaths lead to lightheadedness. He squeezed his eyes shut as the racing panicky thoughts of an asteroid suddenly hitting the earth and ultimately ending his life coursed through his thoughts.

He felt a warm hand on his back, rubbing up and down. He knew it was Gary, there wasn't anyone else. He didn't speak to Pete, not one word. But knowing someone was there, the temporary comfort derived from human affection smoothed his anxiety.

He didn't know if Gary remembered that time; he sure did. He heard the door open and looked up, Gary was grinning maliciously. "Hey, are you done?" He asked, Pete paused before he sat up.

Of course, he was done with the nauseating homework. His hand was cramping from the almost frantic scrawling he had to write. If it didn't land Gary an A, he'd be damned.

Briskly, Gary grabbed the stack of papers with eagerness. Pete looked at him from the corner of his eyes, awaiting his approval. It was funny that he always seemed Gary's approval, it was futile; Gary would always pick on him.

Idealistically, if it were a universe where Pete didn't feel lighthearted whenever Gary did show his genuine kindness, he'd rip the papers to shred. A snowfall of shredded paper, a gesture to demonstrate Pete's agitation.

But he didn't. He only stared as he analyzed Gary's pursed lips, furrowed eyebrows; he felt sick. He didn't like the homework.  
"Is it bad?" He asked gingerly, rubbing the graphite of his hands.

"No, it's not bad, very well-written." Gary mumbled, skimming through the condensed words. "Ah, words like socially subversive and paradigm, you know your stuff." He quipped which earned a modest grin from Pete.

He paused as Gary cleared his throat, "there's just one problem.." he began, evoking a groan from Pete.

"Seriously, what is it?" He massaged his temple with the heel of his palm as he averted his eyesight from Gary to the Beam Soda can that rested on his desk.

"Your writing's barely illegible," Gary set the stack down and sighed, thumbing through the pages, "for a very feminine guy, your writing's chicken scratch." He muttered, wrenching the warm fuzzy feeling away from Pete.

"What? You want me to rewrite it?!" He cried out, "that's not.. I'm not doing it!" He was used to doing homework for jocks. They never thanked him, but they didn't ever complain about his writing. He knew exactly what Gary was doing, torturing him.

Because he could blackmail him, so easily. He best comply if he wanted to live comfortably at Bullworth. "I'm not doing it." He shot with a tone of finality. His response flipped Gary's nonchalant exterior to his venomous one.

His brows furrowed, contorting his significant scar. "What do you mean you're not doing it?" He asked, his tone taut with irritability. His hand slammed on the writing desk. Pete wanted to reach out and break each finger; for each time Gary had let him down.

"Is this not good enough? I did it, I'm not re-writing it." He said, glancing up at Gary from the corner of his eyes. He was fuming. His usually pale face was reddening to the colour of a peony.

"I told you, Peter," he began, drawing in a sharp breath to regain his composure, "it has to be illegible to be handed in." He shook his head rapidly, as though Pete should've known this by default.

He plastered on a small smile to hide the cowardice that was rising in him. "No, Mr. Galloway is very laid back about those things, you just want to apply the extra labour, to make me miserable." He laughed out but it was only a nervous titter.

He looked down at his lap, averting his gaze away from Gary. "I think you're homophobic, you're making me do this because I like guys." His claims were vaguely plausible, why else would Gary do that to him?

"I'm not homophobic." He argued, widening his eyes as he rose his hands in mock surrender. "I just want a good grade and you happen to be willing to do it for me." He dropped his hands before glaring at Pete. His brown eyes were nothing but slits.

"You're such a bullshitter." Pete sighed, dropping his head into his hands. He pushed himself out of the chair and clipped Gary's shoulder on his way out. He stood dumbfounded with his exit. Pete didn't know how to feel.

The week consisted of avoiding Gary. It was easier than he thought it would be. Mostly because Gary had 'responsibilities', which consisted of mingling with the popular kids. Pete always thought it was greasy and dishonest; so did Gary. Pete would always reassure Gary that he was a good guy and the slivers of genuine purity peeked from behind Gary's cruel façade.

Those slivers of actual kindness made Pete fall for him. But it was different, now that he knew that Gary could easily rupture Pete's social life. Not to mention, there was a spring dance. He disliked dances for obvious reasons that the music was too loud, it was too crowded and he didn't find stuffy air enjoyable.

He skipped dances whenever he could. Except that he promised Beatrice that he would take her. She knew that he had his eyes on the different team but she didn't mind. The sense of being escorted to a formal event was enough for her.

Pete was no saint either. He wanted to decline her request, to avoid the possibility of bumping into Gary. But his empathy was a well without an end, where he could feel sorry for the same people over and over. It was revolting but it was a part of him.

His remorseful empathy was the reason why he was standing in the school gym in a sweater vest. He sat on the bleachers, watching violet and red lights fade in and out. Strobe lights would flicker erratically along to the dancing teens. Cyndi Lauper's distinct vocals bounced off the ceilings and Pete looked around for a particular someone.

"Are you looking for Gary?" Beatrice asked, swaying on her platform shoes. He shook his head, scoffing loudly which was muted by the deafening music. "I saw him with Angie." She mentioned, glancing back at the crowd.

"What's Angie doing with Gary? Poor girl." He cracked with a sullen smile; nevertheless, it earned a giggle from Beatrice. He always thought she was good company.

"Why don't you go see Johnny Vincent?" He suggested, nodding his head towards the crowd. He didn't expect the 'king' to be at mundane events like dances. Despite the odds, he stood near his friends. He was drinking from a cup which was more likely to be malt scotch than the punch they were serving.

"He's busy with Lola." She shook her head, looking him up and down before her smile faltered.

"Really? I don't see her." Pete leaned and looked around for the promiscuous girl. "I have an idea." Pete said with false enthusiasm. He had had this idea before but it never worked. He used to try bumping into cute girls years ago just to spark a conversation but it usually sparked an insult.

"Go 'bump' into him." He suggested to his taller friend. She chewed her lip thoughtfully before she shrugged and went off.

The prospect of fresh air was comforting; to rescue him from the suffocating atmosphere the gym packed. Through the sea of bodies, he squeezed himself through and left the gym.

It was cold outside, the night's air snipped at his skin and he begun to wish he had brought a jacket. There was Bo Jackson, dribbling a basketball on the court before he glanced up. His interest turned away from Pete before he continued to practice slam dunking the ball.

Pete must've hit a stroke of luck. Not even a jock wanted to go after him. There was the faint thought in the back of his mind which taunted him. Maybe Bo knew about him, Gary could've told him.

He neared the cusp of an anxiety attack, his stomach twisted and his legs went numb. But before he could collapse onto his knees and lose his breath, he skulked away to the football field.

He looked upon the field. A melancholy sight with its grim darkness covering it. There were no jocks sprinting around either; nobody. He glanced down at the bleachers beside him before he sat down.

With no prefects around, he took no time to reach into his pocket and pull out a cigarette. His hand grabbed the lighter in his pocket and lit the end.

There was the tame red light coming from his cigarette which barely illuminated the murkiness around him. He took a deep drag to cover the feelings of reckless worry in him. He held the smoke in his mouth, staring at the scoreboard across the field.

Just as he exhaled, he heard movement around him. Muted footsteps nearing with each step. They amplified but Pete continued to look forward; not daring to look at whoever.

"Can I have one?" The voice asked timorously. The voice was familiar, with its hidden maliciousness. Instead of the fluttering butterflies he expected to arouse in his gut, he felt a fire in his chest. His indifference transcended to almost an brutal hate.

"No." Pete shot, glancing over his shoulder to look at Gary. His eyes flickered over the silver suit he was wearing. "Nice suit." He spat at him, taking a quick drag before blowing it out harshly in Gary's direction.

"This isn't the typically 'nice' Pete that I know." He lamented before he sat next to Pete. He was following Pete's gaze and they ended up both observing the scoreboard.

"You're never nice." Pete pointed out, which was almost accurate. Gary never bothered to be selfless, why did he have to be? "Did you tell anyone?" He blurted out, choking on the smoke. It burnt his nostrils like fire engulfing paper.

"No." Gary said simply, offering no apology or further threat. He didn't mind, he was relieved that his secret hadn't been uncovered. "Why didn't you tell me?" He asked quietly, a trace of exasperation in his voice.

"Because." Pete shook his head, looking down at his shoes. There wasn't anything else to say. He had millions of reasons why he didn't tell him but why would he say them aloud?

"That's not an answer."

"Because it was weird." Pete tossed the cigarette off, watching the small object fling across the bleachers. "You understand, don't you?" He sighed, finally looking at Gary. It was the first time he had looked at him in the eyes in a week.

It was difficult to look him in the eye without screaming from sheer frustration. "When we grew up, how was I supposed to tell you I liked guys? It's weird! I don't want to like guys, I don't." The words tumbled out of his mouth like ink onto a page. It was almost natural to ramble the internal turmoil he kept inside.

"I wouldn't have judged you." Gary said, reaching out and holding Pete's barrow shoulder. Pete considered swatting his hand away; to rebuke his affection. It was only fair. For all the times that Pete offered his love from the goodness of his heart, Gary mocked him.

Gary had made him ugly. It used to be so easy to love, to keep looking on with a grin on his face. But he knew what people were really like. Gary was right whenever he said how hateful people really were. He wished he didn't know ugliness but he would've been naive if it weren't for Gary.

"Yeah, maybe not.. but you'd use it against me." Pete muttered, reminding him about his plans to blackmail him proved his statement correct. "And you're never nice, never!" His voice was rising, hitching as hate boiled deep inside him.

"Why are you getting so mad at me?" Gary cocked his head, confused with his behaviour. It only sent Pete closer to derailing.

"Because you're a dick! And I keep standing by you, I'm still your friend and you still treat me like shit." Pete hated how whiny he sounded, like a pained animal. He drew in a sharp breath and calmed down; his heart raced from his outburst as he calmed down.

Gary stared without his big mouth open to say some snarky comeback. Maybe he realized the error of his ways, finally.

"Oh, and ever since we were kids, I liked you." He shook his head, looking away from Gary. "I know it sounds 'faggy', or whatever you want to call it." He mumbled, his cheeks burnt with shame.

"Pete, I like girls." Gary heaved a sigh, looking at Pete. It was too dark to see the embarrassment on Pete's face. Tears welled up as he swallowed the lump in his throat.

"I'm not gay." He looked at Pete continuously while he wished that he would look at anything else. The stars, the moon, the field.. just not at Pete.

"I know." Pete murmured, his voice strained as he wiped his eyes with the heel of his palm. "It's okay, I understand.. just wanted to let you know."

Gary closed his eyes and envisioned a moment that held a crucial role in his heart. "I fell in love with you once." Gary admitted, "when we were younger, before I knew guys weren't supposed to like guys."

The words tugged violently at Pete's heartstrings. He tried his best to regulate his breathing as he continued to listen to Gary's words. He knew that later in bed, he'd close his eyes and remember exactly how Gary said those words. How much emphasis he'd put on a syllable and he'd overanalyze it.

"I killed that squirrel with that rock, remember?" He asked which evoked the blurry memory in Pete to show itself. He remembered vaguely about that day. "I killed it, and you cried and buried it." He whispered, seemingly mesmerized with the memory.

"And.. I remembered thinking to myself how ugly I was inside, I was evil.. and I hated it but it was just a part of me." His voice was so brittle, fragile like a leaf in autumn. Pete didn't speak but he knew that Gary was cruel for no reason, and it was just something that was inside of him.

"But you were so tender hearted, I wanted to be with you because you loved everything, even when something was plain dumb, you liked it.." Pete didn't know what to say, dubious about if Gary really did love him.

"I think you fell in love with my optimism, not me." He shrugged sympathetically, offering an apologetic smile. Gary nodded at his statement.

"Probably.. but I liked you how a guy likes a girl and it confused me, 'cause I thought I hated you." He pursed his lips, kicking a water bottle on the floor to the side. It scuttled across. Pete watched it disappear from his peripherals.

"But you don't like me that way, you grew up." Pete reminded, desperately building proof that Gary didn't like him. It would be easier to move on, easier to grasp on the idea that it wasn't so complex.

"I don't know." Gary shrugged, "I don't like boys." He argued once more. He looked at Pete, who frowned at the ambiguous answer. It was a flimsy excuse of an answer.

"So, you're saying no?" He asked, shaking his head as he stared at Gary's feet.

"No, what I'm saying is, I don't know."

He hated it. He hated the inconclusive answer he had pulled out of Gary. Years of yearning for an answer, a 'yes'. All he got was a 'maybe'.

"The universe loves making me the butt of its joke." Pete suddenly spat out with scalding contempt, his chest rose and fell as he clenched his fists.

"What're you talking about?" Gary scoffed, turning to face Pete.

Pete glared at him before looking back at the scoreboard. "I have to go, I've got to go see Beatrice." Pete suddenly remembered that she was probably looking for him. He also didn't think he could talk to Gary for another second.

"Are you mad at me?" Gary asked with carefully calculated indifference. Pete got up, stretching his legs before he made his way up the steps.

He didn't answer. He didn't need to. He glanced over at Gary, realizing that even if he did love him, he'd never go through with telling him. Because he cared more about what people would think.

He wanted to yell at him. Tell him what he truly thought about his insecurity but he only stared. Without realizing it, words dipped from his mouth like elongated legato.

"Gary, you're not the monster you make yourself to be." He said, watching as Gary's curious visage fell into something indescribable. He wished he could read minds.

"Thanks, Petey." He mumbled before looking back onto the field. For a few seconds longer, he let his eyes linger on somebody he loved and hated equally. He left the bleachers, wondering why the world had just ended.


End file.
